


With Flowers In Her Wake

by corinnemaree



Category: Sanditon (TV 2019)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, Inspired by Hades and Persephone (Ancient Greek Religion & Lore)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-23
Updated: 2019-10-23
Packaged: 2020-12-28 22:44:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,047
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21144458
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corinnemaree/pseuds/corinnemaree
Summary: Charlotte had been a goddess long enough to know what the underworld would look like. What she didn't expect was to find its king - Sidney Parker. (Hades/Persephone AU)





	With Flowers In Her Wake

**Author's Note:**

> so i debated whether or not to put this up and i'm still incredibly nervous about it  
also, please let me know if you think this deserves more chapters! will probably work on it if enough people want more!  
*rating will change to E if given more chapters*

Charlotte had lived for a very long time - immortal gods did tend to do that. She’d done her best at controlling her powers, restrain them where her mother told her to, but she loved the freedom of spring. She could let it all out like letting hair fall from a tight binding, finally able to unwind itself. Yet, after centuries of being the best at her job, providing only the basic care for spring as her mother saw fit - she had grown restless. 

Finally, she told her mother she needed time - she wanted her own life away from the restraints of her mother’s watchful eye, and to do her duty as she knew she could - she wasn’t a child. And so, Charlotte took to the mortal world and lived among them. 

She found that she thrived within their chaos, to be amongst them and struggle like the rest - just without the dying part. It was an advantage. Charlotte adapted, moved on from town to town, city to city, country to country, and it worked for her. 

Every spring, she came alive, bringing it to the world, and moving north or south where she was needed. Yet, for half of the year, she still struggled with being maintained and coddled, as though she were expected to be neat and proper. Charlotte had found that she liked the wild recklessness of herself. 

In her sanctuary of joy, Sanditon, she had built a flower shop. People would come for miles to get her flowers that shouldn’t exist year round, but do! What a miracle it was! It made Charlotte feel important in spite of her mother’s warning. 

It had been centuries since she had found Sanditon, a charming little village at first, before turning into a bustling seaside town with a load of charm to match. Charlotte had known the families of the town for years, most staying and enjoying the comfort of the sea, and others came and went. Her shop was quaint at first, a little cart that she had put on a corner one day, offering flowers for a shilling and donating the money to a children’s orphanage when she had saved enough. She had no use for money, it wasn’t as if she bought things anyhow - she liked being amongst the people and growing her own food to survive and thrive. 

Over time, she had built it into a thriving business, with regular customers and the ones that would travel half the country for a flower in bloom in the midst of winter. She’d lie, saying it was a family tradition of planting seeds that let them grow in the harsh weather, and most people would believe her. Others would roll their eyes and call her creations fake. It hurt, but it wasn’t as though she could change their mind - she was lying of course. 

As her business provided her with interpersonal interactions, she learnt of families and how they fit into the town. The Stringer family had been around since the beginning - generation after generation finding a home amongst the rocks and sea breeze. There was also the Denhams, a family that was a mix of hateful and snobbish people, as well as the kindest and most gentle beings in the town. It was the sea encrusted within them - calm, but brutal when need be. 

In all, she had her own home within the town. As each decade went on and she remained ageless, there were always excuses, but she found that many people didn’t care. They went about their business and assumed she was the niece or daughter of the previous owner. It worked. It was a breath of fresh air to never be made into a spectacle, though she very well could have been - even when children would whisper about her. When they finally approached her and asked about the little rumours that had spread, she’d spill her secret and they promised to keep it to themselves. 

A town with a goddess was something to hold onto, not throw away. 

When the mornings were quiet, and daybreak wasn’t for a while longer, Charlotte knew she could steal away from the town. It kept her away from people prying into who she was, and gave her a moment for herself and nature. She put on her black denim jeans, a simple floral shirt with an oversized tan sweater that hung over her form. 

Putting an alarm on her phone, telling her when to get back to the store, she ventured out into the morning. Charlotte had found the field of wild flowers a while ago, she found the dead things and brought them back to life once more, setting them to bloom and adding them to her collection. It was good for her to search out her flowers, producing them from nothing made her feel so tired afterwards, especially when winter was taking root. 

With the fog of morning still upon the moors, Charlotte was surprised to see anyone about. She saw two men, one walking in front of the other - the one following was a man she knew from town, Old Stringer, but she’d never see the man leading before. He was also dressed oddly, but she couldn’t tell from the distance between them. Curiosity taking hold, Charlotte pursed her lips and moved silently to follow after the pair. 

They didn’t walk far, moving down into a hole in the earth. It was wide, and the two men walked in without even batting an eye. In the pit of Charlotte’s stomach, she knew there was something wrong, that she should have gone back into town and asked young Stringer what could possibly be going on - but she was a god, she could help if need be. 

So, in spite of her fear, she moved to the hole, noticing it was different than she anticipated. It was as if it were a simple tunnel, it didn’t go very deep, more like a slow incline to make it easy to descend wherever they were going. Charlotte glanced over her shoulder, seeing the light of morning coming along the shore line, breaking onto the ocean’s reflective surface, and then she looked back to the depths of black nothingness. And she knew she had to keep going. 

She wandered, her hand on the wall, steadying herself and taking careful steps amongst the dark. Charlotte could see the glow of something in the distance, not too far off, but it guided her where she thought she needed to be. Her sneakers would catch on earth, but she knew she couldn’t stop, even when the air was so cold, it was leaving puffs of heavy air every time she breathed. 

When it finally opened up, Charlotte staggered back, seeing a dismal river that held mourners on it’s bank. Every structure that scattered the shore line was as though it was the soul of a fallen building - crumbled columns and half built walls. The sands were like copper - dust that had been stained with blood. It was as though went on for miles, no need to the shoreline - an endless bank to forever wander. In the end, it was only the river that would take them away from the waiting. 

In all her years, she’d never experienced the underworld, but upon seeing it, she knew that was exactly where she was. The atmosphere felt dead, like nothing could grow there, as if it wasn’t rich enough to grow a thing. Yet, as her nerves took over her, she could see small flowers growing around her feet. She tried to restrain herself, only for an earth rumbling growl to occur closeby. When she turned to her right, she saw it - the creature that so many feared - cerberus. Three heads, all growling at her.

Regardless of the warning in her belly, she edged closer to the spot, her hand extended out. It didn’t snap at her, but rather leaned down, still sniffing and growling in her direction. Then, finally it came to her hand and she ran her hands through the fur on Cerberus’ jaw, the growling stopped, and she felt no more fear. She giggled as she held him closer to her. 

“What a beautiful thing you are,” she smiled to the beast, only for her hand to be snatched away and whirled around. Charlotte was completely taken off guard, stumbling into the person that hauled her about. 

Staring up at him, she was lost for words. He was handsome, and he had to have been told, because it was quite obvious. He stunned her completely. 

“What in the hell do you think you’re doing here!?” He was dressed in regency clothes, as though he were a lord lost from a time that had long since passed. He scowled so deeply, he should have lines running along his face - it seemed to be a natural state of how his features. He wasn’t clean shaven like a regency man would be, stubble growing across his jaw and lip - he was  _ old _ and tired. Yet, Charlotte could tell he was ageless - weather and time no longer touching his body. He was…

And it came to her. 

He pulled on her hand once more, grip tight and the time etched into the very skin that held her, guiding her back up the path she had entered through, rage in the hold he held her in. “No living being can come into this domain. You’ll wake and think this is all a dream, but dear gods, girl learn where you can and can’t go!” 

“You’re the God of the Dead, aren’t you?” she asked, and he stopped, looking down at her. The scowl that was once written into his face was gone, and the softness that she predicted was now leaving him like the god she knew him to be. 

“How could you possibly know that, girl?” 

“I have a name!” she snapped, unsure as to why she would provoke a god such as he. Yet, with all his authority over her, she felt the need to fight, not to be handled in such a way. 

“Well, speak it or you’ll remain here without one,” he snarled. 

“Charlotte,” she said, raising her chin, trying to stand taller, but he still loomed over her. 

“Well now, Charlotte, I’d suggest you head back the way you came, absolute fool you are,” he said, pushing her off again. 

“And a goddess,” she corrected, and once the word was said, his hand loosened, falling from hers. There was something cold after his touch was gone - an odd heat from a man that was stuck in such a place. She had found, in the short time he had held her - that his touch wasn’t terrible in the slightest. He was stunned this time, looking her over. “What? You weren’t expecting that?” she asked, batting her lashes as she rested her weight on one hip. 

“I know all the gods,” he said, as though the notion of her being a god was unbelievable. 

“Not I,” she said. She always felt as though she talked too formally to other gods - they were so old and talked like the ancient time when they were still worshiped. Charlotte barely grew when the worshiping was coming to its end. “Like you, I had many names. Kore, Persephone, Charlotte,” she rattled off, and he rolled his eyes. Charlotte looked back sternly. 

“Goddess of Spring. I should have guessed from the growing flowers in the land of the gods damned dead,” he scoffed, stepping back from Charlotte and extending his hand to the exit. “Get out,” he said, exhaustion in his voice. 

“What?” 

“You aren’t even supposed to be here, so get back to where you belong,” he continued, and Charlotte felt ... compelled to stay, even though it chilled her to her core to be there, she still felt comfortable there. 

“What should I call you, if I am to ever see you again?” she asked, walking slowly to the entrance.

“I would hope we never find ourselves in each others company. But if we are to meet, you may call me Sidney,” 

“Sidney,” she repeated, trying not to smile. She had to admit, it suited him more than Hades ever could. “You’re far too pale. Maybe some springtime sunshine will bring some colour out in you,” she said, words slipping and making him blink back in surprise. His hands went behind his back and a smirk fell onto his lips, stepping back into her space once more. 

“Or perhaps your mother will strike me down how she’s always wished,” he replied. Charlotte had to admit, when he wasn’t a raging bull, he made her feel like she was the centre of the world. That smile would be hard to say goodbye to, she assured herself. 

If she looked to her feet, she knew she’d see green, that her heart was racing and her power was becoming reckless. She would sprout a forest if he laughed, though she had doubts if he even knew how to do such a thing. 

“I may be younger than you are, but we are both gods, what is it fear another god?” she asked, trying to understand his mind. 

“A wise endeavour,” he quickly replied, raising one eyebrow, then his hand went out again, showing her the exit once more. “Now good day to you, Miss…” 

“They call me Heywood on earth,” she continued. 

“Miss Heywood,” he finished. Charlotte nodded as they parted and Charlotte moved off, only to stop when she realised something that she had forgotten. The reason she was there in the first place.

“Old Stringer, where is he?” she asked. Sidney turned, hands going behind his back once again.

“Ah, that’s why you’re here,” he sighed, looking down at the ground before looking back at her, “he died this morning.” 

“Oh no,” she whispered under her breath, “I have to go.” 

“Yes, yes, leave,” he sighed, ushering her off. Sidney turned, looking back at the realm he controlled, Cerberus looming over the god, glancing to Charlotte and whining in soft breaths. 

“You have a very lovely dog,” Charlotte called out, walking backwards as she parted from the realm of the dead. 

“Thank you. He’s a pain in the ass,” Sidney replied, hand reaching up to the dog and not even looking over his shoulder, as though the exchange were normal for him. Charlotte took off, not caring that she may trip if she weren’t careful - it didn’t matter, she needed to get back to the town. 

Climbing out, she got to the surface, seeing the sun in the near exact position as she had last seen it - the minutes and hours halted by her time within his realm. When she glanced back to the tunnel, it was gone, sealed up with grass back on top - as though it were never there. Charlotte wanted to tap on the earth to see if it would give way and she could see him again. An allure she couldn’t quite describe was hidden within him. 

Yet, she had other things to worry about. She sprinted back to the town, tripping every so often as she frantically made her way into the square, seeing the paramedics already going up the stairs to the Stringer home, James standing outside, pacing as grief was written into him. Charlotte sighed, making her way to him, and as they saw each other, embraced. It was the only thing she could think of doing for him. 

~

“Charlotte Heywood,” Sidney whispered to himself. The land of the dead kept itself true to its name, the trail of flowers that she left died the moment the entrance closed. Yet, a bright, white, little flower stuck out near Sidney’s foot, and he crouched down to it. 

He plucked up the flower that had bloomed in his land before it had the chance to wither with the rest. He hadn’t seen life in this domain since...well, ever. Nothing was able to grow, it was practically forbidden by the damn physics of the place. Yet, she let it grow. Sidney tried not to smile as he said it again. “Charlotte Heywood.” 

“You are quite the bore,” a voice called nearby. Sidney turned to it, seeing his life long companion - though, it seemed like a loose word, they barely tolerated each other on the best of days. 

“Hecate,” he sighed, irritated by her already. She pushed off the giant rock she was leaning on and walked to his side. She opted to also wear what the mortals would - choosing to keep up with the attire of the times. Sidney rarely saw daylight, so he had little reason to change. 

“I told you, the mortals call me Georgina. I prefer it,” she reminded, and he sighed. 

“As you prefer it, I will endeavour to keep using it.” Georgina wore a red suit, something that complimented her skin fantastically, but it also made a lot of the mortals in the underworld fear her. As she should have been. She was even older than he was, regardless of how young she appeared. 

“Why would you send her away? She’s the most interesting thing that’s ever happened to us,” she reiterated, and Sidney sighed, rolling his eyes and rubbing at the bridge of his nose. 

“To us?” he asked, still rubbing his nose before looking back to her. 

Georgina shrugged. “Well, you. But you’re my only source of entertainment and your life is rather boring,” she reminded. For the millionth time. Sidney had to remind himself that she was a very powerful god and not, in fact, the child that she acted like. 

“Go torture someone else, please,” he asked, waving her off. She poked at his chest, eyeing him down one last time. 

“Invite her back. For the both of us,” she said, almost as though if he didn’t, it’d end poorly for him. Georgina became the journey down to the river when Sidney stood in the perfect little field in the land of the dead. He smiled.

“Spring. We’ll go to earth in Spring,” he called, and he heard Georgina cheer. 

Spring. He could wait until Spring. He pressed the flower to his nose, inhaling the scent softly, and he sighed. 

“Charlotte Heywood. Persephone.” 

**Author's Note:**

> BIGGEST SHOUT OUT FOR MY BETAS! doesitsaysassonmyuniform, interstellarbeams, and nothingwithoutyouxo!


End file.
